


Backup

by EldritchSandwich



Series: DC United [13]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Banter, Fluff and Humor, Fluffy Sandwich, Gen, Home Alone Inspired Shenanigans, Sandwiches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:20:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27594721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EldritchSandwich/pseuds/EldritchSandwich
Summary: When the Joker comes calling, Alfred gets some help from an unexpected quarter.
Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel
Series: DC United [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1964518
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66





	Backup

Wayne Manor was no stranger to supervillains.

Even those who didn't know about his nocturnal activities still knew that Bruce Wayne was one of the richest, most isolated people in Gotham, and thus an ideal target for ransom, burglary, replacement by a clay doppelganger, etc. In fact, one of the two currently ransacking the upstairs hallway had not only been there before, but had done so more than once. Alfred was just a little surprised, given her self-evident change in associations, to see her again.

The click of the hammer on the double-barreled shotgun made both women turn from whatever they were doing to the antique cabinet under the McCracken. Harley Quinn smiled. Poison Ivy did not.

"Oh hey Al!"

Alfred nodded politely while very much not lowering the gun. "Dr. Quinzel. Dr. Isley. If you're here to abduct Mr. Wayne, I'm afraid I must inform you that he's currently out of the country."

"Oh yeah yeah, we know," Harley said with a dismissive wave of her hand, obviously not the least bit offended by the assumption. "That's why we're here!" Alfred raised an eyebrow in a request for elaboration. "See, Mistah J's got this new brainwashing thing he stole from Hugo Strange, and we found out he's plannin' to break in tonight and turn you into some kinda sleeper agent so you'll kidnap Brucie for him when he gets back. So we figured we'd swing by and help you defend the ol' homestead, Home Alone style!"

"I see."

"To be clear, we're not doing this for your benefit," Poison Ivy amended with a glare. "We're mostly just doing it because ruining the Joker's plans is incredibly satisfying for both of us."

"Aw, come on Ives, be nice! Al's great! Last time me and Mistah J were here, you know, holding that garden party hostage, he was so nice! He made me this really amazing hot sandwich, uh...oh, what was it? Croc something."

"Croque monsieur," Alfred volunteered, and Harley clapped her hands.

"That's it! Aw man, that was a good sandwich..." She grinned slyly. "In fact, you might even say it was a...killer croque."

Alfred pressed his lips together. Poison Ivy, who was in no position to be so polite, threw her head back with a groan. "Oh Jesus, Harley."

Alfred cleared his throat. "So am I to understand that you are filling this house—where Mr. Wayne's children live—with countless hidden deathtraps?"

Harley waved dismissively once again. "Oh, they're not deathtraps! Just, you know, humiliation traps! And we'll clean out anything he doesn't set off when we leave."

"Mm."

"You know if you're so worried about what we're doing, you could always help us," Poison Ivy pointed out. "So you know we're not doing anything to violate your delicate sensibilities."

Alfred sighed. He lowered the gun.

A little.

* * *

Despite his reputation for chaos, the Joker was actually a big fan of planning. After all, needlessly elaborate, over-the-top deathtraps and heists were kind of his thing. So it wasn't like he'd gone into the Wayne Manor job without a plan.

It was just that, as thoroughly as they'd prepped, he hadn't been expecting two of his henchmen to be taken out on the upper landing by projectile potatoes to the crotch. Or for the stairs to be covered in marbles and baby oil, or for tripwires in the hallways that upended buckets of live and highly opinionated frogs onto their heads, or the thing with the houseplants, or...

He never even saw the butler. Of course, judging from the shotgun blast that grazed the side of his head as he ran back across the grounds, covered in oil and angry frogs and what he was pretty sure was rice pudding, the butler definitely saw him.

When they made it back to their vehicles only to find them surrounded by a party of assorted Batgirls and Robins, the Joker just crossed his arms with a soggy, pudding-y scowl.

Some people just took the fun out of everything.

* * *

With the Joker corralled and on his way back to Arkham, two Batgirls and two Robins headed into the manor, following the trail of pudding and potatoes and weaponized paper airplanes to the kitchen. Black Bat was the first one through, kicking open the door...and then stopping almost immediately at the sight of Alfred, Harley Quinn, and Poison Ivy sitting around the butcher block, eating sandwiches.

"Oracle called us when we were out on patrol, are you okay, A..." Batgirl cleared her throat. "Sir? Civilian?"

Alfred pursed his lips. "Yes, thank you...mysterious young vigilantes. However the situation has been resolved."

"So...they're not...holding you hostage? They're not with the Joker?" Red Robin asked in confusion, and Poison Ivy sent him an annoyed glare.

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response."

"I'm afraid I must admit that Dr. Isley and Dr. Quinzel were most helpful in dispatching the Joker."

"Yeah," Harley said with a grin. "Didn't you hear? We're morally ambiguous now!"

The four young crimefighters exchanged a skeptical glance. Robin shrugged. Alfred cleared his throat.

"Well then...may I interest any of you in a croque monsieur?"


End file.
